


Broken Chains

by PyschoticBiotic



Series: Trials of the Dragon [1]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: OC's - Freeform, Some good ol' OC torture, Strong Language, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-19 11:53:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13703934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PyschoticBiotic/pseuds/PyschoticBiotic
Summary: "Chains are meant to be broken, as are those who would forge them"After being exiled from the only home she ever had, Lyris knew life would not be easy. But nothing could prepare her for the horrors she would suffer at the hands of Ambassador Andro Ves Eglier, a cruel human with an insatiable hatred towards all of elven-kind. An original piece of work based on my elven ranger, who I play in Tyranny of Dragons.





	1. Welcome to Luskan

For the uninitiated, the city of Luskan is naught but a haven for crimes both petty and serious, from swindling and pick-pocketing to murder and slave-trafficking. But for those armed with sharp blades, keen eyes and a willingness to take advantage of the weak and naive, it was a place brimming with opportunities.  
Lyris wouldn’t say she was one of these opportunists. Or at least, not out of choice or avarice. She was doing it for survivals sake. With barely had two coppers to rub together, and not a friend in the world she could rely on her hand was forced.  
The market was the best place to operate. Civilians and scum alike frequented the place. As such it was impossible for one to tell to tell whose. Lyris pulled up her hood and stepped into the crowd. Her slender frame meant she could blend in relatively unnoticed.  
At this point, it was almost like second-nature to her; getting close to the target, bumping into them on “accident”, cutting the strings of the coin-purse and catching it in one fluid motion. Today, her mark was a human man who clearly had coin to spare judging from his figure. His over-indulgence only made it fair he should share his fortune with Lyris, who could not recall the last time she had enjoyed a meal that was not water-thin brown broth of questionable origins.  
‘Watch where you’re going, knife-eared cunt!’ he spat.  
Lyris ignored the slur, quickening her pace to put as much distance between the shem and herself as she could before the inevitable occurred. Sure enough, she’d barely walked ten steps before he had the sense to check for missing belongings.  
‘Oi–thief! Someone grab that she-elf!’  
Lyris broke out into a run, barreling through a clustered group of people. They shrieked and cursed her out but Lyris didn’t slow her pace to apologize. She broke free of the throng gathered in the marketplace and took a sharp left down an alleyway. She kept on taking the twists and turns, forging further ahead into the back-alleys of the city. It wasn’t until she realised while she had lost the human, she herself was hopelessly lost.  
Lyris tried in vain to trace back the erratic path that had brought her here but she grew even more lost in the maze of identical, narrow cobbled streets. She took a right as she tried to recall the pattern and hoped to catch a glimpse of the market beyond.  
She paused when she saw three hooded individuals loitering on the street. Though she was not one to judge a book by its cover, this was Luskan. She took a step back, deciding not to risk this path. But as she did her back collided against something solid, and a tail wrapped around her waist.  
Lyris glanced over her shoulder and saw a tiefling towering over her. His skin was black as coal, and his eyes completely white. The corners of his lips tugged into a small smile. From the periphery of her vision, she saw the three figures walk towards them.  
Her hand reached for the daggers strapped to her belt before the tiefling’s hand snatched her wrist.  
‘I wouldn’t, if I were you,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘No matter how confident you are in your prowess in battle, surely you know when you’re outnumbered.’  
The other three removed their hoods. Two drow-elves that looked near identical to one another, and a muscular half-elf. One of the drow elves stepped forward and grabbed her chin, forcing their gazes to meet.  
‘I like her eyes. Can I take her eyes?’  
‘Now now, Corrina. I know it’s been a while since you last saw a baz’entai but try to contain yourself.’  
The other drow ran his fingers through her hair. ‘You know these locks could fetch a pretty penny…’  
Corrina looked at her twin, amused. “Really, Corvya, you’re barbaric.’  
The tiefling clapped his hands together. ‘Now now. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We need to do a thorough investigation of the goods. You never know what kind of unsavory diseases baz’entai pick up, frolicking and fornicating amongst wildlife like the animals they are.’  
Lyris shoved her head backwards. A hollow CRACK reverberated through the streets. With his grip on her loosened, Lyris broke free of his grasp and swung for him. The half-elf lunged forward and grabbed her arm  
‘Lovely girl you’re in Luskan. You’ll have to try harder,’ he growled  
Hands began grasping at her clothing, pulling and tearing it off. She batted away one hand only for another to take its place. The drow elves seized both of her arms. The tiefling circled her, humming in contemplation. He ran a finger down the deep scar running from her shoulderblade down to her hip.  
‘Quite the scar you have. I wonder what story it tells?’  
‘Well?’ prompted the half-elf.  
‘I would say, my friends, we have quite the prize on her hands. But nobody takes anything. We won’t get good coin if she’s incomplete.’  
‘You’re no fun, Athria,’ groaned Corrina.  
‘Oh you can still have some fun with her. Just leave the face. I want her to stay pretty.'  
A flurry of fists drove into her skin, striking at her back, chest, stomach, arms and legs. Lyris collapsed to the ground, choking on her own blood. They began kicking. She felt a sharp crack from her side as several ribs broke.  
‘Welcome to Luskan,’ Athria said, before he and his companions faded from view.


	2. The Auction

When Lyris’s consciousness slowly returned, she first became acutely aware of the hard surface she was laying on. Hard and cold. Lyris’s eyes opened. She could hear a cacophony of several different conversations overlapping, making it impossible to decipher what was being said. The dim light and the blurriness of her vision prevented her from being able to discern her surroundings. Her eyes slipped shut again. The voices faded…

The sudden sensation of ice-water crashing over her body yanked her back awake.

 

‘On your feet.’ It was Athria. He grabbed her arm and hoisted her upright. Her head pounded and vision spun. She then noticed the manacles around her wrists and ankles, and that she was dressed in a simple, white shift-dress. All of her belongings were gone. Her eyes finally adjusted to the low-lit room.

Lyris was stood atop a stage, separated from the roaring crowd by metal bars. There were others up there with her, all women: a halfling, two humans, and a half-elf.

‘Alright, everyone settle down!’ Athria yelled. When the crowd didn’t quiet, he held up one hand, and set off a deafening explosion. Lyris moved to instinctively cover her ears only to be stopped by her chains. The din of the crowd petered out.

‘Marvellous. Now, ladies and gentleman, today I have for you six spectacular specimens. I think you’ll agree we have a fine selection for you to choose from. Now, then…why don’t we start with the smallest?’ He dragged forward the halfling. She squeaked in protest, dragging her feet against the floor.

‘As you can see, she’s easy to control, and just, simply adorable. I don’t think she’ll make a great bodyguard, but she would be a fantastic pet. We’ll open bids at 200 gold pieces.’

One hand went up. ‘250!’

‘275!’

‘280!’

‘Do we have any more bids? No…alright then, sold to the aasimar lady, for 280.’

Immediately, she was taken off the stage, and led to her owner.

Next was one of the humans. She had even less composure than the halfling, kicking, screaming and crying as she was dragged forward into the light for the crowd to see. A few people ‘ooh’d’ and whistled. She was sold for 600. The other human, who merely accepted her grim fate went for 400. Next was the half-elf. When Athria began pulling her forward she slipped from his grip and tried to make a run for it.

‘Oh, foolish bitch.’ Athria stretched out on of his hands.

The half-elf seized up under the hold-person spell. Athria sauntered over to her, pushed her to the ground and stomped on her shin. Lyris flinched at the horrible snapping sound, followed by a harrowing scream.

‘My apologies.’ Athria half-dragged, half-carried her forward. ‘This one will need some house-training, clearly. To cover medical expenses, we’ll open the bidding at a mere 75 gold.’

She was sold to a half-orc for 200. Now Lyris was the only one left.

‘And this exquisite specimen is one I collected yesterday.’ Several of the crowd cheered when Lyris was pulled into view. ‘A none-drow elf is a rare site in Luskan. So I expect you all to bid generously and seize this rare opportunity. She has some scars, but she is durable…tested her myself.’

‘Fuck you.’ The words tumbled from Lyris’s mouth. If she wasn’t bound she would claw the bastards eyes out.

Athria laughed. ‘She has quite the temper. And would seem there is still some lingering pride that needs to be beaten out of her. But like I said…durable.’ He backhanded her across the face. Her injured cheek immediately stung ‘Starting bid…shall we say, 800 gold?’

‘900!’

‘950!’

‘1000!’

‘10,000 gold!’

The crowd broke out into murmurs at the claim. Lyris might have felt flattered she was valued so highly, were it not for the fact she was being sold like property. Athria looked around, trying to catch site of the bidder. A human man dressed in dark refinery stepped through the crowd, who parted for him without hesitation. The deep blues and blacks of his clothes contrasted with his white hair and alabaster skin. He was flanked by two elven slaves, and followed by a good half-dozen armed and armoured men.

‘10,000…did I hear correctly?’

‘Yes, you did my good man. It’s quite the prize you have.’

‘That is…a very generous bid. Do we have any advances on 10,000?’ The room remained silent. ‘Going once…going twice…sold! To the human gentleman!’

Athria grabbed Lyris by the chain connected to her collar and yanked her forward. He handed it to the human. He nodded in thanks to Athria and snapped his finger. One of his existing slaves stepped forward, staggering under the weight of the sack of gold. She thrust it into Athria’s arms, eager to be free of his weight. As she did, she knocked into him, making him stagger back an inch.

The human whipped his head around to level her with a glare. ‘Insolent girl! How dare you touch you betters!’ He raised on hand and made a turning motion of with. Her neck broke with a resounding snap. She collapsed onto the ground, head angled impossibly at Lyris’s feet. She tore her eyes from the dead girl to the human. His eyes bore into Lyris’s with unspoken threats, even as he reached for his own coin purse.

‘Another 2,000. For your trouble.’

Athria bowed. ‘I am forever grateful to you. I do hope we can do business again one day.’

‘I’m sure we will, once these two have exhausted their usefulness. Until we meet again.’

He pulled on the chain, dragging Lyris out of the building.

The light from outside burned her eyes as she exited the dim room. Through her squinted eyes, she saw a gilded horse-drawn carriage waiting. Lyris and the other girl were dragged towards the carriage, but they didn’t sit in it. Their chains were connected to rings on the outside of the carriage. One on each side.

He turned to Lyris before stepping foot in. ‘Oh, excuse me. I believe I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Ambassador Andro Ves Eglier. But unless you want ten lashings, call me Sir or Master. What is your name?’

Lyris felt a prickle of anger, her draconic pride rearing its head.

‘Hm, a mute? Not to fear. I have ways of extracting words from your pretty mouth. For the meantime, we shall call you…Dawn. To symbolise the dawn of you new life.’ He went to step into his carriage then stopped himself, sparing Lyris one last, pitying look. ‘ I do hope you can keep up.’

‘Hey,’ Lyris whispered to the other girl. She was a wisp of a thing, clearly underfed. She wore the same white shift dress Lyris did, but it hung loose from her malnourished body. ‘Hey, what’s your name?’

‘Nerissa,’ she whispered.

‘Is that your real name?’

Nerissa shook her head.

‘Then what is?’

‘I…I don’t remember.’

The carriage set off at a slow pace. They began walking behind it.

‘How long have you served that dickhead?’

Nerissa turned to her, wide-eyed then glanced around, paranoid. ‘Don’t say things like that!’

‘Or what, he’ll kill me? I doubt it. I’m quite the investment.’

‘There are worse things than death.’

‘Like slavery?’

Nerissa fell silent. As they broke out of the narrow streets, the carriage picked up pace. Nerissa and Lyris quickened their stride as their chains pulled taut.

‘Where exactly are we going?’

‘Blackford Hold. Mi'lord’s homestead overlooks the Black Raven River.’

Lyris recalled a road of the same name from her map. ‘That’s 2 days journey from here…’

Nerissa nodded. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘What for?’

Nerissa leaned forward, her blue eyes looking up at Lyris sympathetically. ‘For what they may do to you tonight.’


	3. Discipline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a while, but I haven't forgotten about this! It's basically finished so now it's just a matter of uploading all the chapters. Thanks for your patience! Short chapter is short but I will upload more soon.

By the time they stopped today Lyris was exhausted. Once her chain was released from the carriage, she collapsed. A swift kick was delivered to her ribs, still recovering from recent injuries. She grunted, and twisted her head sideways.  
A half-orc towered over her, dressed in simple leather armour that left his scarred chest exposed. His long black hair, shorn on both sides, was tied back into a long braid.  
‘Who said you could sleep yet, slave? Fire’s gotta be made. Tents pitched. Food cooked. Drinks poured.’  
Lyris’s pride, or maybe it was stupidity, took over her mouth. ‘Fuck you.’  
The guard grabbed her by her hair and pulled her head upwards. ‘Let me make myself very clear. You are now property of his lordship Andro. And you will behave as such, or suffer the punishment. And you don’t want to know how I punish pretty little elves like you.’ He pushed her back down with enough force for her head to connect painfully with the ground.  
‘Just do as your told,’ Nerissa hissed. Her twig-thin arms were already full of firewood.   
Lyris looked about their surroundings. Thick forest. Minimal visibility now it was twilight. She didn’t doubt the guard force were watching them, but right now they were a good twenty-feet away. Likely enough of a head-start. She grabbed Nerissa’s hands and pulled her behind her. The firewood clattered out of her arms.  
Several yells followed them as they ran to the edge of the forest. Nerissa gave some resistance, beseeching Lyris to wait. She didn’t listen. She continued until an invisible force struck her, flinging her back several feet. She bounced off the floor and rolled up at the feet of the men chasing them. Nerissa hovered behind her, one arm clutching the other.   
‘I tried to warn you,’ she whispered. 'We're sorry, Brigfen! It was just a stupid mistake...'  
‘You stupid knife-eared bitch.’ Brigfen grabbed Lyris's collar-chain and yanked her upwards, ignoring Nerissa. ‘The Ambassador won’t stand for this. I guess we’ll start discipline early.’  
Immediately both of her arms were grabbed. She was dragged into camp and promptly pushed in front of the Ambassador.   
He looked questioningly at Brigfen.  
‘This one not only tried to escape, she tried to take the other one with her!’  
Andro raised one eyebrow. ‘Really? How disappointing.’ He heaved a wear sigh and pushed himself to his feet.  
He wordlessly held out one hand. One of his guards handed him a cat-of-nine-tails whip. With a snap of his fingers, he summoned a spectral dagger and used it to cut open the front of her white shift-dress. He waved it away, and it misted into nothingness.  
Lyris was forced down onto her knees. Andro ran his fingers through the split-ends of the whip. He held it behind his shoulder, then brought it down on her torso.  
The first lick of it stung. The second burned. With the third, she sagged in their grip. The fourth, she pressed her lips together to smother whatever sound she might make. The fifth and the sixth, she grunted. The seventh tore open her skin. And the eighth broke her.   
By the time it was over, Lyris was barely conscious, and her front was a bloody mess. She was too exhausted to even react to pain properly. The men lost interest, and went back to their drinks. Nerissa crawled over to her.  
‘Why?’ Neriss was usually soft-spoken, but her voice had an edge to it.  
‘Because I’m a bloody fool.’ Lyris croaked. She looked down at her ruined front. ‘Literally.’  
‘That’s not funny!’ Nerissa knelt besides Lyris and poured water onto her wounds. She hissed as the cool liquid hit her burning torso. Gently, Nerissa wiped away the blood. ‘This will leave scars.’  
‘Some people find scars attractive.  
Nerissa leaned in closer. ‘Do not prove yourself more trouble than you’re worth.’  
‘Haven’t you heard? I’m worth a lot.’   
‘Stop talking and rest. I can take care of them for the rest of the night.’  
Lyris was already drifting asleep.


	4. Punishment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warns for sexual harassment and rape. Also for context Lyris is a golden dragon by the name of Qetsiyah (pronounced Kett-see-eh) locked away in the form of an elf because she was too proud and vain, hence all the stuff with Bahamut.

A bucket of ice-cold water started Lyris into conciousness and reawakened the pain of her cuts. She noticed the cut front of her shift had been hastily stitched closed, and felt the pinch of tight bandages. Brigfen stood over her, holding the now empty bucket with a smug grin on her face.  
‘Naptime is over. Ambassador wants a word.’  
‘What?’ Lyris asked, sitting up. Water gathered on her front began to pool on the grass around her.  
‘A slave doesn’t ask questions! I get that this is all new to you, but this is your life now, so get used to it! We say jump, you ask how high. Understood?’  
She felt the familiar flush of rage, but then remembered the feeling of the whip hitting her skin. Her anger crumbled.  
‘Fine, fine, I’m going.’  
The Ambassador stood on the outskirts of the camp with his back to her, watching the sunrise.  
‘I dislike being kept waiting,’ he said without turning.  
Lyris said nothing. Eventually he turned to face her with a weary sigh. ‘Do you know the reason I only buy elf slaves?’  
‘Some sort of weird and disgusting fetish,’ Lyris guessed, injecting venom in each word.  
He laughed. ‘Not something quite so simple. Your people have a great deal of pride. And why not? You have rich culture, lengthy life-spans, your language is like music to all ears, and each individual in your species is gifted with natural beauty.’ He stepped forward to her. ‘But why? Why the elves? What makes you so special? Why do the Gods smile down on you?’  
‘I can assure you, the Gods sure as hell aren’t smiling on me or Nerissa.’  
Andro grabbed her chin and forced her gaze up to meet his. ‘With all those great gifts comes an uptight attitude and vanity. You look down on disgust at other species. I want to show the elves they are not so special. You can be brought down beneath the lowest of the low.’  
‘You say your reason was not so simple. Yet you sound like a run-of-the-mill racist to me. I’ve met your kind before. Fancy I will again in the future. They all meet the same end--at my hands.’ Lyris clenched her shaking fist so hard her nails bit painfully into her palm.  
His laughter was like poison to her ears. ‘I am merely trying to enlighten you. In time, you will learn. Now go. You have duties to attend to before we set out.’

The day was hot. The sun beat down mercilessly upon Lyris and Nerissa, the only two of the whole caravan deprived of shelter. Lyris envied Nerissa’s thin, light-coloured locks. Her thick dark hair attracted and trapped the heat.  
Lyris’s tongue darted out to disperse whatever little moisture it held onto her cracked lips. At this point, there was little she wouldn’t do for a single sip of water.  
Due to the heat the caravan paused several times to water the horses. Lyris herself gladly ran and collapsed next to the same body of water, dipping a hand in and greedily gulping it down. Her throat burned so furiously it was difficult to swallow at first, but the more she drank, the easier it became.  
Lyris scooped up more in her hand when something shoved her into the glade. She fell face-first into the shallow water, resurfacing to look behind her. Brigfen stood grinning as he and his men shared a laugh before moving onwards, talking and chortling. Lyris stood and squeezed the moisture out of her hair. She would have been annoyed, but the water had done wonders to cool her heated skin. Unfortunately, white material when wet left little to the imagination. Several of the men leered at her as she passed, or even tried to grab at her. Lyris crossed her arms over her chest and hurried away. An arm grabbed her wrist as she passed. She was tugged with such force she lost her balance and landed in his lap. It was one of Brigfen’s men, a dough-faced, bald human.  
Lyris levelled a glare at him and tried to stand. As soon as she did he wound his arms around her waist, locking her in place. He was stronger than he looked ‘Slave is a good look for you, you know?’ One finger toyed with the chain links connected her manacles to her collar. ‘If you’re a good girl and do as I say, I could put in a good word with Brigfen. Get him to lay off.’  
Lyris leaned in close, and gave him the sweetest smile she could muster. ‘I’d rather push hot, burning coals into my eye sockets.  
‘If word of your disrespect gets out, that could be arranged.’  
‘Rolfor?’ Nerissa appeared behind them, looking nervous.  
‘What is it slave? I’m busy here.’  
‘The ambassador wants a word with you.’  
Rolfor sighed deeply. He shoved Lyris off his lap. ‘I’ll find you later.’  
Nerissa buried her face in his hands. ‘I am going to get 100 lashings for that!’  
‘You lied?’ Lyris hissed. She looked about them, checking no one was listening on on their conversation.  
‘Yes.’  
‘And I thought I was the fool.’  
‘You are. You keep saying or doing the wrong thing. You need to start falling in line.’  
‘We shouldn’t have to bow and scrape to the whims of these bastards.’  
‘No, we shouldn’t. But we have to.’  
Andro clapped his hands together. ‘Alright, everybody, we’re moving out!’  
The camp sprung into action, returning horses to carriages. Guards took up their positions around it, and Nerissa and Lyris were anchored to Andro’s carriage. 

Four long, dreadful hours later they arrived. Straddling a cliff overlooking Black Raven River, named for its unfathomable black depths, was Blackford Hold. A giant castle constructed from dark stones towered above them. Four towers shot up to the sky, each flying a flag she didn’t recognise.  
As Lyris stared up at the monolithic structure, Brigfen smacked her across her back, nearly knocking her onto her face.  
‘Welcome to your new home, slave.’

They were put to work immediately, scrubbing the floors of the entire castle. There had to be several hundred miles-worth of floor spanning across the castle.  
‘You’ve got to be joking.’  
Andro crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Do I look as though I am jesting? The more you flap your gums the longer this will take.’  
‘There’s too much for two people to--’  
Andro snapped his fingers. Two of the guards stepped forward and took her arms. ‘It seems as though you never learn. Strip her naked.’  
Andro expected her maybe to beg or grovel. But she didn’t. She forced herself to remain composed, even as the dress was ripped off her body, and he produced a whip she had grew a little too familiar with.  
Andro unwound the bandages from her chest, and then circled her slowly, stopping when he was behind her.  
Thirty lashes. He forced her to keep count. She lost count midway through twice. Lyris couldn’t stand, or even sit once it was done. She lay on her side, her wounds weeping blood onto the ground. Nerissa let her be for a short while before urging her upright.  
‘Let me re-apply the bandages.’  
Lyris lifted her arms. Even that felt like a monumental task. Nerissa wrapped up the wounded surface of her skin. She placed a hand on Lyris’s shoulder. ‘I told you to stop this behaviour. You don’t want to know what they do to slaves whose owners grow weary of them.’  
‘Perhaps I do.’  
Nerissa shook her head. You would beg for the Ambassador if you ever fell to that fate.’  
‘It can’t get much worse.’ Lyris back prickled with hot pain, punctuating her point.  
‘That’s where you’re wrong. It can always been worse.’  
‘How do you do it?’  
‘Do what?’  
Lyris gestured to Nerissa. ‘This. Living this life, day-in day-out with no qualms, no lapses of judgement. The perfect, obedient slave.’  
‘I have lived this life much longer than most do. At this point, it is the norm for me. I gave up any dreams that life could get any better, but I know it can get worse. So I keep my mouth shut and obey. As should you.’ Nerissa stood, grabbing both their buckets. ‘We should get to work.’  
Lyris waited for a good twenty minutes until she got worried. Eventually she stood and followed after where Nerissa had headed. Down the corridor, she saw an open door from which she heard snatches of laughter and voices. In front of the door were two buckets. Lyris hurried over.  
She peered through the gap in the door and saw Nerissa, naked, bent over a table. Her eyes were squeezed shut tight, but it didn’t stop the tears falling down her face. The other men watched and laughed.  
Nerissa suddenly opened her eyes as the man behind her stuttered to a stop. Their eyes met through the gap in the door. She wept harder, as different man came to take his place.  
Lyris should have stormed in there. She should have ripped all of their throats out with her teeth. Instead, she reached down for the buckets and walked away. As Nerissa’s screams filled the hallway, Lyris quickened her stride. 

Lyris finished the entrance hallway, antechamber and the west and east-bound corridors herself. She served dinner along with the kitchen boy. The cook had to help her with the dishes. She didn’t see Nerissa until she was bedding down in the slaves quarters. “Quarters” was a generous term--a single, tiny room with two piles of hay and a single chamberpot.  
Nerissa looked worse for wear. There was a limp in her step, her dress dotted with blood and dirt. Her wispy blonde hair looked even more bedraggled than before.  
Lyris felt sick to her stomach.. She could have stopped it. She should have.  
‘Nerissa--’  
‘I know what you’re about to say. And it’s fine. You made the right choice. You’re learning.’  
Nerissa lay down on one of the haypiles. Not even a moment passed before she was asleep. Lyris lay down opposite, facing the wall, the exchange turning over in her head. “You’re learning…”  
Lyris double-checked Nerissa was asleep, then knelt in front of the north-facing wall. She never had been the praying-type, but she knew she had a God’s ear at her disposal.  
‘Bahamut. I don’t know if you’re listening but…’ Her voice shook with emotion. She cleared her throat. ‘I don’t know if you’re listening, but I could sure as hell use you right now. I get that you wanted to punish me. But aren’t you taking this too far? And this other girl.’ Lyris glanced at Nerissa’s sleeping form over her shoulder. ‘She’s done you no wrong. If not me, at least deliver her from this hell we’re in.’  
Lyris paused. Only silence answered. ‘I...for the first time in a long time I’m scared and…’ Tears spilled down her eyes. ‘And I need your help. Please, please help.’  
Again no one answered her call. Lyris collapsed against the wall, silently weeping.


	5. Qetsiyah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for rape.

When Lyris opened her eyes and saw nothing but an empty black void, she knew she was not truly awake. She walked forward for a few minutes until she saw Bahamut in his human form. He looked at her with pity in his eyes.  
‘Your here…’  
‘I heard your cries, Qetsiyah.’  
‘And?’ She started forward. ‘What are you going to do?’  
‘Nothing. You know the rules. Gods cannot intervene with the lives of mortals.’  
‘Bullshit. They can. They just choose not to. What I want to know is why. Are you lazy? Does it not suit your needs? Or do you not give a shit?’  
‘I care, Qetsiyah. I care deeply about all mortals.’  
Lyris just shook her head. Each lie he fed her only served to make her grow more weary of their conversation. ‘We’ll be arguing for days. Just say what you came to say and fuck off.’  
‘You’re angry…’  
‘Can’t possibly imagine why!’  
‘As a God I am a servant to Fate. This is your fate, Qetsiyah, but it is only temporary. But be warned, your freedom will not be free of charge. It will cost a life.’  
‘If you’re not going to physically help, you could at least not be cryptic!’  
‘I cannot say anymore Qetsiyah. The only other thing I can offer you, is my sincerest apologies.’  
‘Keep them. I have no need of them.’  
Bahamut sighed. He stepped forward, and placed a hand on either side of her head. ‘You were always the more outspoken of my children. And I loved that about you. It was refreshing. You’re too full of life for this to be your fate. Believe me when I say, you will escape, and you will find happiness. I know it for fact.’ His form flickered, the telltale sign their conversation was over.  
'No! You don't get to leave me here.'  
'I'm sorry, Qetsiyah. Be strong...'  
'Bahamut? BAHAMUT!'

Lyris’s eyes flew open, Bahamut's name an unspoken whisper on her lips. The first rays of sunlight filtered through the small barred window onto Nerissa's already-vacant bed.   
The door banged open, and in entered a plump human woman. Her thinning grey hair was scrapped back into a neat bun. Her overly large bosom nearly spilled out from the corset she wore over her simple dress. She wiped her swollen hands on her apron as she glared down at Lyris.  
‘What, do you think your on holiday? On your feet, girl!’  
Lyris slowly stood, the grogginess of the early morning still clutching her.  
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ The woman stalked over and wrenched her upright. She was stronger than she looked. ‘Follow me, elf. You’ll be working in the kitchens with me today.’  
‘Where’s Nerissa?’   
‘Never you mind. You don’t ask questions. You speak when you’re spoke to, understand?’  
Lyris said nothing as she scanned the open rooms they passed, hoping to spy her golden hair. A sharp slap on her burned arm brought her attention back to the woman standing in front of her.   
‘I’m speaking to you, knife-ears! Just because I’m not one of the soldiers don’t think you’re off to hook. I can and will whip you into obedience.’  
In her mind Lyris heard the snap of the whip, and felt the unwelcome sensation of her skin tearing underneath its strike. ‘Y--yes.’  
‘Yes ma’am. Where are your manners?’  
They started walking again, through the large dining room and into the kitchen. Nerissa wasn’t here either, but there were several servants there. She knew they weren’t slaves because they weren’t in chains. She was sure it was no coincidence they were all human or half-elf. It did give her pause to wonder, though, who Andro would bother hiring servants when it was clear he wasn’t opposed to slavery.  
‘Don’t just stand there gawking!’ snapped the cook. ‘Start with the pots!’  
What followed was the contender for the longest and dullest days Lyris had ever endured--and perhaps one of the most painful. The cook didn’t use a whip, but she had a mean right hook she used on Lyris several times when her pace slipped behind. For every pot she finished washing, another appeared seemingly from thin-air. She was at least spared the job of serving the dinner to Andro or any of his guard-force. But when the day was done, her back ached and her wrists were sore. By the time she returned to her sleeping quarters, she was too exhausted and hurting to even give Nerissa’s continued absence a second thought. She passed out within minutes.

It was still dark when Brigfen came for her. They placed a sack over her head and marched her through the castle. She was too exhausted to even word her protest or even feel enraged. With her eyes covered and Lyris not yet given the chance to learn the layout of the map, she had no idea where she was being taken, but when the cold stones underfoot was replaced by cool, dry, soil she knew she was outside.  
The sack was pulled off her head. She stood in the middle of the outdoor courtyard, the guards forming a circle around her. Lying on the ground in front of her was Nerissa.  
Lyris dropped to her knees and turned her over. Her face was covered in bruises and cuts, as were her limbs. Her dress was covered in dirt and blood.  
‘Nerissa?’ Lyris shook her. She didn’t respond, only breathed haggardly. ‘Nerissa!’ Lyris glared up at the guards. ‘What the hell did you do!?’  
Brigfen held out one finger. A key attached to a ring dangled from his finger. ‘Know what this is?’  
‘A key,’ Lyris snapped.  
‘Aye. Not just any key. To key to your salvation. Your freedom. Nerissa has never had any dreams of escaping. Not till you came along. Now she told me it was her own idea. But I don’t believe her.’  
Lyris looked down at Nerissa’s broken form. Her eyes slid open a fraction.  
‘Nerissa?’  
She mumbled something intelligible. Lyris lowered her face, and heard Nerissa whisper: ‘I’m sorry.’ The words wrenched at her gut. Nerissa was not the one who needed to apologise.   
Lyris lowered Nerissa’s head gently to the floor and turned to Brigfen. ‘She was lying to protect me. Escaping was my idea. I instructed Nerissa to steal the keys. Even though the plan was my own, I gave the riskiest task to Nerissa, because I knew the consequences of getting caught. I didn’t want to face those consequences.’  
With a sigh, Brigfen pocketed the key. He stepped up to the two of them and met Lyris at eye-level. She wanted to flinch away, suddenly nervous at his proximity. She was not eager to yet again experience the pain he was capable of inflicting.   
Thankfully he backed away first, with a deep, throaty laugh. ‘I don’t think she’s lying. What a heartless bitch. Poor Nerissa here, even as we beat her to an inch of her life, begged for us not to hurt you. If you’re really the orchestrator though, I fear we will not be able to grant Nerissa her wish.’  
Two men were already seizing her arms and dragging her away from Nerissa. Lyris kicked and struggled, but her aching, exhausted body was not strong enough to put up a fight. They bent her over the fence circling the training yard. Two men held her down as she heard Brigfen undo his belt. Lyris squeezed her eyes shut as she prepared for what came next. 

Once it was over, Lyris was pushed onto the ground. She felt as broken as her friend looked. She wondered if she had been put through the same. She wondered if she would ever wake up. Brigfen paused as he passed Lyris. He looked too smug after his victory.   
‘Now perhaps you’ll think twice, or I will find you and do the same thing. Understood?’  
Lyris didn’t respond. She couldn’t bring herself to look him in the face. When she did, she felt it all over again. The humiliation. The agony.   
Brigfen and his men left the two of them bleeding into the yard. Lyris dragged herself up to Nerissa, still unconscious. She laced her fingers through hers.  
'I'm truly sorry...' she whispered, before passing out.

She awoke to gentle humming and the sensation of fingers running through her hair. Lyris’s eyes opened, and was greeted by Nerissa’s face, haloed by the morning sun. She smiled down serenely at her, then winced and brought a finger to her split lip.  
‘You’re awake,’ Lyris croaked, sitting up.  
‘I should be saying that to you.’ Nerissa dropped her gaze down to her lap where Lyris’s head had been a second ago.  
‘I was worried. You were gone for an entire day.’  
Nerissa cringed. ‘I’m sorry. It was not my intention to worry you. Nor did I want to drag you into my mistakes. I wanted us to escape. Together. But I got caught. And you were punished.’  
She remembered it all to well. The torture. The pain revisited itself between her thighs, burning, searing. The degradation that came with it. Nerissa’s sympathetic eyes made it all the worse.   
‘You should have told me. I would at least have liked to know I need to prepare for some kind of fallout.’  
‘I made a mistake. I know. I truly am sorry.’  
‘Now it’s going to be all the harder to escape, you know that? Our chances would have been better if we worked together.’  
Nerissa rung her hands as she mumbled yet more words of apology. Lyris couldn't find it in her to be mad as she stared into Nerissa's doe-eyes.  
The door leading out to the courtyard banged open. Brigfen swaggered outside. Nerissa immediately took Lyris’s hand. Lyris was unsure who it was supposed to comfort. All she felt was icy dread as the half-orc stepped towards them.  
‘Well isn’t this adorable? Did the two of you spend the night together out here? Can’t imagine you had too much fun. I exhausted this one before the night ended.’ He pointed to Lyris.   
‘Please, leave us alone,’ Nerissa mumbled. She squeezed Lyris’s fingers.  
‘I merely came out here to give you your duties for the day. Kennel duty. Current kennels need cleaning, as do the hounds. And one of the empty spaces needs preparing for the new wolf we caught.’  
Lyris stood, pulling Nerissa up with her. As she went to walk by Brigfen, he groped her ass.   
‘Last night was fun. I hope we can do it again sometime.’ His laughtar chased her into the building.  
Nerissa watched Lyris with worry in her eyes.   
‘I’m fine.’ Lyris dropped her hand.   
‘You don’t seem fine.’  
‘What happened happened. There’s no taking it back. So stop fucking apologising and treating me like I’m made of glass!’ Lyris stormed ahead to the kennels, not knowing or caring if Nerissa was following.


	6. Fenrir

The kennel master was a crotchety man in his mid-forties. He wore a sleeveless shirt to show off his beefy, tattooed arms. When Lyris reached the kennels, he had them folded over his chest in a show of impatience. He glared at Lyris then glared past her shoulder at who she could only assume was Nerissa trailing after her.  
‘The fuck kept you two? You were due here ten minutes ago.’ His words were barely audible over the constant barking.  
‘We’re here now,’ Lyris said.  
‘The name’s Wade. I’m the kennel master, in case you don’t know. The new hound has been giving us some trouble. Barking non-stop, refuses to get in his cage. Last fella that tried to go near the beast ended up in the infirmary. Caught the mange, apparently. Let’s see if you slaves have better luck.’  
Nerissa gasped. ‘Sir, we are not trained for--’  
‘Step aside.’  
Wade bristled at being given orders, but he couldn’t hide his impressed expression. ‘By all means be my fucking guest.’  
He opened the kennel door, then immediately locked it behind her. Nerissa ran forward, hands clinging to the bars. She stared through them solemnly. Lyris just nodded at her then started forward. Either side of her were cages housing huge dogs of war. They barked, growled and threw themselves at the doors with such force the bars shook.  
Ahead of her lay the slumbering beast. Not a hound, but a wolf. She could tell from its size, snout and the hue of its fur. As she approached, it ears pricked. The beast stirred, and raised it head. Its golden eyes met Lyris’s, and it stood on all fours, growling, warning for her not to take another step. So she didn’t. She stopped, and crouched down so she was at eye-level with it. The wolf didn’t relax its stance, but it didn’t grow more aggressive either. It just watched her, growling.  
‘I’m not going to hurt you.’ Lyris said. As she studied the wolf, she noticed blood sticking to the end of its fur on his side. A wound. ‘You’re hurt.’  
The wolf whined, like it understood.  
Lyris turned to look at Wade. ‘Are there any medical supplies?’  
‘What for?’ he asked.  
‘The wolf is injured.’  
‘Why should I care?’  
‘If this wolf can be tamed, it would be a boon for his lordship. Letting it die from an infection would be a waste of resources.’  
He tossed her a small brown satchel. ‘It’s your funeral.’  
Lyris grabbed the satchel and turned to the wolf. He was watching her cautiously. She approached him slowly, satchel in one hand. She was not close enough to the wolf to touch it, but she didn’t dare reach out a hand. It was bigger than she originally thought.  
Now she was close enough to see the wound, she noticed an arrow shaft poking out of its side. Slowly she extended a hand, keeping her palm out. The wolf raised its head. It bared its teeth, but made no sound. She held out one hand and waited, letting the wolf approach in its own time. Eventually, he took a whiff of her palm. She stayed still, allowing him to grow accustomed to her scent. Lyris gestured to the wound.  
‘Can I?’  
The wolf seemed to let out a gruff sigh, as if reluctantly agreeing. She gentle skimmed a hand over its back. From its expression it wasn’t particularly enjoying her touch, but she took the fact he didn’t maul her outright her as a good sign.  
Lyris moved her hand down to his side. The wolf’s hair raised slightly.  
‘This will hurt. I’m sorry.’ Lyris grabbed the arrow shaft and yanked it out. The wolf howled and thrashed. Its turned its head to Lyris and slammed its jaws down on her arm. Lyris let out a cry as the teeth sank into her flesh. She heard Nerissa shout something, but the pain blocked her senses. Her free hand groped for the satchel at her side. With shaking fingers, she opened the clasp. Her hand wrapped around a poultice. With as much delicacy as she could muster, she slathered it onto the wound. It must have some soothing properties, as its jaws went lax, allowing Lyris to free her arm from its grasp. She studied her forearm, and saw the bleeding imprint of each teeth. She dearly hoped the wolf wasn’t a carrier of the mange as Wade suggested.  
She gritted herself through the pain and wrapped a bandage around the wolf’s stomach. He licked her arm as though apologising. It stung like the nine circles of hell, but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless.  
Lyris heard hurried footsteps behind her and turned to see Nerissa running towards them. The wolf growled. She placed herself between the two of them.  
‘It’s ok,’ she told the wolf. ‘That’s Nerissa. She’s a friend.’  
Nerissa wordlessly grabbed Lyris’s arm to study the wound. ‘That needs medical attention.’  
‘It’s fine,’ Lyris lied. It was throbbing, and the edges felt hot and sore. ‘We have work to do.’  
Nerissa ripped off a strip from the hem of her dress and wound it around her arm.  
‘Thanks,’ Lyris mumbled.  
Nerissa’s eyes darted up to meet hers. She wordlessly squeezed her wrist. She felt strangely light-weighted from the gesture.  
‘We...we have work to do,’ Lyris stammered after an awkward minute passed.  
Nerissa drew back, face flushed. ‘Of course. I’m sorry.’  
The next few minutes the spent scrubbing the kennel floor, laying down hay and fetching water for the wolf. Nerissa's attempts to corral or coerce the wolf into the cage were met with failure.  
‘Listen to me. I know it’s not the best, but this cage will give you your own room. People won’t be so eager to bother you there, and if you obey, you will be safe from harm. They won’t hurt you again.’ Lyris skimmed a hand over the covered wound to punctuate her point. The wolf gave her face a lick before he stepped into the cage. He curled up on the floor.  
‘I think he likes you,’ Nerissa said.  
‘We just understand each other.’ Lyris shut and locked the cage. Her arm throbbed. ‘Now I’ll get this seen to.’  
As it was, no one in the infirmary deigned to tend the wounds, as was expected. Pride out the window, Lyris offered her body in return for supplies, but apparently she wasn’t Doctor Naevin’s preference. So instead she hid around the corner and played the waiting game.  
Hours later, after sundown came, Naevin finally left the infirmary. Lyris pressed herself against the wall as he passed her, hardly daring to breath as the tall human passed her. When the sound of his footsteps faded into silence, she darted over to the room. The wooden door leading in was secured with a padlock. Just her luck.  
Lyris glanced around in desperation, looking for something, anything that could help. She noticed one of the stones in the wall to her right was loose. She grabbed it and pulled. It barely budged. She tugged on it again, leaning back. It came out an inch.  
Lyris braced one foot against the wall and pulled again. It shot loose from the wall, Lyris tumbling backwards onto the ground from the momentum, but in her she held her key into the infirmary.  
The padlock broke easily under the stone. She dropped it to the floor, and pushed open the door.  
The room was more haphazardly organised than she thought it would be--the desk facing her hidden beneath piles of paperwork. Mounted onto the wall on her left over an operating table was a cabinet filled with tiny bottles, each bearing a hand-written label. Underneath it were bushels of herbs--eucalyptus, moon-blossom, aconitum, vale tears and others she did not recognise. A tray rested on the table with surgical instruments. Judging from the stench, they had just been sterilized. Next to it was a box of bandages. She grabbed a handful then walked over to the cabinet, examining the bottles. She scanned them until she saw one she recognised for healing and pain-relief-- “Berronar’s Blessing Extract”, a rare creeper plant that grew in snowy mountainous areas.  
She snatched the bottle of the shelf and laid her arm down on the table, yanking the cork out with her teeth. She braced herself, gritting her teeth before slowly pouring the contents of the bottle onto her arm. The sting would have been overwhelming but the numbing sensation came quick. With as much finesse as she could manage, she wrapped up the injury with the bandages. It was a bit sloppy but it it got the job done.  
Lyris checked the bandages were as snug as she could manage as she quickly headed for the door. A part of her considered taking more supplies in case but she didn’t want to test fate.  
She opened the door, and came face-to-face with Naiven.  
‘Well, well what have we here?’ He wrapped a hand around her bandaged forearm, squeezing it tight. Fortunately she was numb to pain, but nothing could deaden the icy terror she felt as she stared up at him. ‘The Ambassador will be very interested to hear what his slave has been up to.’


	7. Fracture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be warned, somewhat graphic depictions of torture

Silence hung heavy over the Ambassador’s study as he regarded her across his desk coolly. Ever since Naevin dragged Lyris to him, he had said nothing, and his expression remained unreadable throughout.  
After what felt like an eternity, Andro sighed, stood up and walked over to a small desk bearing a jug of wine. He poured himself a goblet and drank deeply.  
‘You disappoint me, Lyris. I paid a lot of money for you. For that kind of investment, I expected a good, hard-working slave. Yet you go out of your way to undermine me, and steal from me.’  
‘I had no choice. I was wounded and the surgeon--’  
‘You are given all you need! And what you need right now...is punishment. Usually, for thievery, hands are taken. But then you wouldn’t be such a good slave. Maybe a finger? I daresay you could still work.’  
Lyris’s hands clasped around each other. He wasn’t be hyperbolic, he looked completely serious.  
‘You can’t actually--’  
Andro whirled around, eyes blazing with the fury of a thousand suns. ‘Don’t presume to tell me what I can and can’t do! I plucked you from that horrendous pit of a city, give you shelter and food and this is the thanks I get?’ His entire body shook from rage. He closed his eyes and balled his hands into fists.  
‘You took me by force, bought me as though I was nothing more than a commodity. You have imprisoned me, and you expect me to thank you?’ Lyris maybe shouldn’t have poked the tiger, but she was pissed. She thought of Nerissa, small sweet Nerissa and thought of the torment she endured, and it only fuelled the fire.  
Andro rounded the desk to where Lyris was, and slapped her hard enough to knock her to the floor. Hot pain bloomed across her cheek, and soon it tingled like a thousand tiny hornets biting into her skin.  
‘It would seem you need help in learning your place. I am more than happy to educate you.’  
Andro grabbed her arm and muttered a word Lyris didn’t understand. The study faded from existence, replaced by a dimly-lit dungeon. When she raised her head, she was horrified by what she saw: an iron maiden, a pulling rack, an enormous brass bull, weapons and what were undoubtedly torture instruments lining the walls; pliers, scalpels, a bonesaw, a collar with a double-ended fork attached, another collar but its inside was lined with sharp spikes, an unnaturally large pair of shears and a complex multi-tiered device with a screw on top. Lyris dreaded to even learn what horrors these objects could inflict.  
He pulled her up by her hair and thrust her into a chair. Locks came down to bind her by her wrists, ankles and neck.  
Andro grabbed another chair and dragged it over to face Lyris. He sat down on it.  
‘Which is your dominant hand?’  
‘W-what?’  
‘Which hand is the strongest? The one you use the most?’  
‘I’m ambidextrous…’  
‘My choice then? Marvellous.’  
Lyris then noticed the gleaming scalpel in his hand. He was purposefully twisting it side to side so it caught the light cast by the torches.  
‘But which do I pick?’ he murmured. He gently examined the fingers of each hand. No matter how gentle his touch, she still felt fear prickle, rolling down her back in the form of cold sweat. ‘Such beautiful hands you have...smooth, unblemished, even after all the work you’ve been doing. It almost seems a shame to main them...’ He flashed a smile that turned her blood to ice. ‘Shall we begin?’  
The scalpel bit into her skin. It didn’t hurt at first, but as he began to drag the blade down her skin, the pain mounted, until her fingers flexed, her other hand gripping the armrest for dear life.  
Andro’s eyes switched from her hand to her eyes as he worked. Lyris grit her teeth, holding back the pain as he cut a small square into the back of her hand. She would not give him the satisfaction. But as he began slowly peeling the skin away, nothing could hold back her screams.

 

Lyris was hardly conscious when Andro was done. A patch of skin has been torn from the back of both of her hands. They twitched and shook from the pain, blood still steadily dripping from the ends of her tensed fingers.  
‘Lyris?’ Her vision was blacking out, his voice becoming lost to obscurity. He slapped her face. She blinked. Her vision was doubled. Her eyes started closing again. ‘Oh for heaven's sake.’  
He undid the fastenings on the chair and pulled her out of it. She barely registered her feet dragging across the floor. Suddenly her head was dunked in a trough of ice-cold water. She involuntarily gasped, dragging in a lungful of the water. She reemerged, coughing up the water. Her throat burned so bad she could hardly breathe.  
‘Feeling more awake are we?’  
‘Why are you doing this?’ she rasped. Speaking felt like swallowing a mouthful of molten metal.  
‘You know why. To rid you of that foolish elvish pride. To allow you to see yourself for what you really are. You deserve this. And deep down you know that, don’t you?’  
When Lyris didn’t respond he grabbed a handful of her hair and forced her head back underwater.  
‘I asked you a question!’  
‘I...I…’ her voice faltered, too weak to finish her thoughts.  
‘Yes?’ Andro prompted.  
‘I’m going to kill you...slowly...the more horrors you inflict on me the more creative I get with my methods, too.’  
Andro scoffed. ‘Still, you cling to these foolish ideologies. There is no escaping. Soon you’ll realise. And I will relish seeing the light in your eyes finally die as you succumb to that truth.’  
He pushed her head back under water, and held her there until she finally stopped thrashing.

‘Qetsiyah…’  
Her draconic name was but a whisper on the wind, lost amidst the cacophony of the storm. Lyris looked around but there was no one else braving these treacherous waters.  
‘Qetsiyah…’  
It was a bit clearer, but the speaker still wasn’t visible.  
‘Hello?’ Lyris called out. Her voice echoed strangely over the raging ocean.  
Sea water sprayed in her face, momentarily obscuring her vision.  
‘Qetsiyah.’ The voice was right behind her.  
Lyris turned and saw Bahamut sitting on the boat. He gestured for her to take a seat.  
‘Couldn’t have chosen a calmer location to chat?’ Lyris asked. She remained standing, but it was hard to maintain dignity, and balance, when the water swelled underneath.  
‘It’s your dream. I cannot change every aspect. And maybe it’s for the best you confront your fears.’  
‘Fears? I have been out through hell, and everyday I go through even worse. When I think it’s reach the pinnacle, their minds dredge up new, disgusting ways to torment me. If you have any love for me, Bahamut, you will kill me. You already said you’re not willing to free me. So just kill me. I can’t do it.’ The tears started falling slowly. But once they started they wouldn’t stop. ‘Please...kill me.’  
Bahamut looked at her in sympathy. ‘My sweet child. I will not kill you. I cannot. You are stronger than the trials you face. To you, they may seem like mindlessly acts of cruelty. And right now, they are just that. But you will overcome this. You will escape. And you will be reborn all the stronger because of it.’  
Lyris glared him through her tears. ‘ I’m sick of the bullshit and platitudes. You can shove it all up your ass.’  
‘I know your frustrated, Qetsiyah, but-’.  
‘Leave me alone.’  
Bahamut reached for her hand.  
‘I SAID LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!’ Lyris slapped his hand aside.  
Her sudden movement caused the boat to rock on the unsteady waters. The boat tilted hard on starboard and capsized. Bahamut vanished, dissolving in the water like mist. Lyris woke up, drenched in sweat, lying on the dungeon floor. She took small comfort that she was alone, no obtuse god or psychopathic torturer in sight.  
Her hands still ached, but they had been dressed, cleaned too from the smell. She pushed herself up from the ground and ran up the stairs, taking two at a time. The door was locked. Lyris banged her shoulder against it but all she achieved was a minor ache in her joint. It would not rend under force.  
She heard a key turning in the lock. Lyris instinctually stepped back, hurrying back downstairs. A guard stepped in, one she didn’t recognise. He held a tray with a bowl and cup on it. He placed it down on the floor in front of Lyris, and left. She exhaled deeply when he was gone. She grabbed the cup and downed the water. It was slightly warm but she didn’t care. Next she grabbed the bowl, that was nothing more than a thin, brown broth but she gulped it down, trying not the imagine what the stringy, grey meat was. It was sustenance, and that was all that mattered.  
The guard reentered a minute after she finished. He said nothing, just silently picked up the tray.  
‘Ex...excuse me?’  
To her surprise he stopped and turned. ‘What is it, slave?’  
‘Why am I locked in here?’  
‘The Ambassador’s orders. I don’t know why specifically, and I dare not ask.’  
‘He doesn’t want me working?’  
‘Apparently not. He said you are not to leave this room.’  
‘Can I at least see Nerissa?’  
‘Like I said you are not to leave this room.’  
‘You could bring her--’  
‘Slaves do not make demands of their betters! And the other slave is busy. Now you are locked up, she has double the work to do.’ He began to leave. Lyris chased him up the stairs.  
‘Wait I just want to--’  
He turned and delivered a swift key to her midriff. Lyris crashed heavily down the stairs, slamming onto the stone ground below. Her entire body ached. She lay on the ground gasping as the pain momentarily paralysed her.  
‘Know your place, slave.’  
He slammed the door behind him, the key turning the lock back into place. Lyris stayed on the ground. Her entire body hurt, but her hands the worst. She remembered the glee in Andro’s eyes when she first started screaming. The utter joy from her begs. He enjoyed it. And he was going to do it again, not just to break her, but because it brought his sick mind pleasure. Lyris hugged her knees to her chest and wept. She couldn’t go through it again. She couldn’t. She would do anything to avoid such pain again, pride be damned.  
Andro had already broken her.

Lyris had passed out at some point. Locked in the room with no way to distract her mind there was nothing more for her to do but wait. The turning of the key woke her up. She sat up, grimacing at the stiffness in her body from falling asleep on such a hard surface. But that was the least of her troubles.  
Andro slowly stepped down the stairs. ‘Afternoon. Apologies I could not visit you earlier. Family brunch.’  
Lyris slowly crawled backwards away from the man.  
‘I’m sensing fear from you. That’s a good sign. Means we’re making progress.’  
Lyris continued recoiling him as he drew closer. Her back hit a solid wall. Andro paused and knelt down in front of her.  
‘So...why don’t we continue where we left off yesterday, hm?’


	8. Emancipation

It was impossible to determine the passage of time. With no light from the outside, the days bled into each other, and whatever routine Lyris had was gone. She ate whenever food was available, and she slept whenever she felt tired, and when Andro was done with her.  
He didn’t take anymore skin, but he took nails, whipped her back, cut incisions all over her arms and legs. He even experimented with fire, applying a hot iron to her sternum and setting her left arm on fire. That wound was probably one of her worst. The pain kept her awake and feeble for days, and she knew for certain that would be one scar she would have forever. It was ugly. Pink and marbled, and for the first few days it wept blood and pus from the countless blisters.   
This was the only life Lyris knew. Endless pain and torment. She thought on the words Bahamut had told her, that this would make her stronger. She repeated it to herself in her head as her body was put through unspeakable horrors. But simple words weren’t enough to soothe her. Hope and belief decayed into oblivion. She didn’t even have the strength left in her to fight back, or feel anger. She was so tired. She wanted rest.  
Lyris was unsure how much time had passed, but as she lay there, battered and bleeding. She yearned for nothing but an end. She couldn’t stand, but she used her arms to drag her tired body over to the table of instruments. Her hands groped around until she felt the cool steel of a blade. She pulled it off the table. Her arm collapsed to her side.   
Lyris propped herself up against the table, staring at the dagger in her hands.  
‘Child...don’t do this’  
Bahamut had appeared in a human form at her side. Of course, now he chose to show up.  
‘You aren’t helping me. Got to take matters into my own hands.’  
‘It’s almost over, my child.’  
Lyris held the dagger out in both hands, the tip pointed at her chest. ‘Yes, it is.’  
‘Stop!’ He grabbed her hands before she could plunge the dagger into her chest.  
‘Why?’ Tears streamed down her face. ‘You won’t deliver me from this hell! You refused me the mercy of death! Now you won’t even let me take my own life!?’  
‘This is not how you end, Qetsiyah. Not in some dungeon, broken and beaten. This is not your end.’  
‘I want it to be!’  
I’m sorry.’ Bahamut removed the dagger from her grip. For the first time ever, Bahamut wrapped his arms around her. ‘There are brighter days ahead, child. And that’s why you’re going to continue to live. And one day, when the sun can never shine brighter, and your are surrounded by love and happiness, you will thank yourself for finding the strength to continue.’  
Lyris didn’t say anything. She just sobbed against his shoulder. The door opened. Bahamut vanished into nothingness. His absence left her feeling cold.  
'Please...don't go,' she whispered to the empty space he had once filled.

Breathing was difficult. Every breath her emaciated body tried to drag in scraped painfully against her parched throat and was followed by a hollow rattle in her chest. Her swollen tongue darted out to try in vain to moisten her cracked and bleeding lips.  
Time was still lost. Lyris was sure they must have forgotten about her, or had decided to let her decay in here. Too long since she had seen another living creature, other than the odd rat scurrying past.  
The metal door leading into the dungeon creaked open. The light from the torch the guard carried blinded her. The rats scattered with terrified squeaks.  
‘Let’s go slave. His lordship wants to see you in his quarters.’  
Lyris’s knees whined with pain as she straightened out her legs that had been folded for an unfathomable amount of time. Her legs shook uncontrollably as she tried to take a step forward. They gave out completely as blackness coated her vision and she collapsed at the foot of the stairs. The guard grabbed the chain connected to her collar and gave it a hard, upwards tug. Her vision cleared, giving her a clear view of his visage twisted into annoyance  
‘Do I have to whip you? Walk!’  
She tried again and made it to the railing of the steps, using it as support. Reaching the top felt like a true accomplishment. She hesitated at the open door. Lyris hasn’t stepped foot outside the dungeon since originally being brought down here. She gave up hope of leaving long ago. The sentries standing guard observed her closely as she was dragged through the hallways, ending in front of a door situated on the highest storey of the mansion. The guard knocked.  
‘Enter,’ Andro said from the other side.   
The guard opened the door and pushed Lyris inside. ‘Brought the slave, as requested my Lord.’  
‘Wonderful, thank you Ainsley. Return to your post.’  
Ainsley saluted sharply and closed the door as he took his leave.  
Lyris glanced about the quarters as Andro kept her waiting. It was comprised of the two floors, the lower of which contained a mini-library of four fully-stocked bookshelves clustered around a few plush armchairs, a desk and a fireplace set into the walls. Directly to Lyris’s left was a staircase leading up to a second-floor. She couldn’t see what was up there but she deduced it was where he slept.  
‘Come sit,’ he instructed, gesturing to the other chair besides the hearth.  
Lyris slowly made her way over. She was not eager to be within close proximity of him. Just looking at him brought back the pain, as fresh and real as when he first inflicted it upon her When she finally sat down, Andro leaned in close to her.  
‘How are you feeling?’  
Lyris hands curled into fists as she felt a flash of heat where her hands had been flayed. The skin was still red and raw. An unbearable itch set in her burn. She shifted her arm.  
‘I don’t know how to answer that,’ she replied eventually.  
‘I see. No smart comments or angry outbursts, at least. I have a feeling you will be an excellent addition to my collection. ‘Indulge me with another question, Lyris. Do you know what is happening in three days time?’  
She shook her head.  
‘Another auction. It has only been six months since the last, but I thought I might attend regardless. It goes without saying you and Nerissa will be accompanying me. She has served me faithfully for close to a year, but she’s grown dull and even your sharp edges are rounded off now. I’m in need of fresh blood to spill.’ He licked his lips in anticipation. ‘So we will set off in a few hours. You and Nerissa need to pack my belongings and ready the carriage….  
His words were last to a roaring in her ears as her heart hammered in panic. She barely heard any of the words after “six months”. The room seemed to tilt around her. Half a year. Half a year of her life, lost to agony and torment. Half a year she would never reclaim, nor forget. Half a year, that she would wear on her skin for the rest of her life. A future of ugly, bitter reminders, and probing questions and judgements from others. What would she tell them, when people asked? A sweet lie of how she earned them from honorable combat? Or the ugly truth she was a marked, wretched being that had been dragged through the filth that lay within the heads of truly sickening people. Lyris would never be clean again.  
‘Well?’ Andro snapped, pulling her back to the present. ‘What are you waiting for?’  
Obedient and quiet, she left the room. Mindlessly, she followed the familiar path back to her chambers, where Nerissa waited.   
Nothing happened for a few seconds. Then she wept. Slowly and quietly, before deteriorating into loud sobs that shook her entire slender frame. She slid her arms around Lyris as she cried. The front of her shift quickly grew damp, and she wasn’t certain if it was Nerissa’s tears or her own. Lyris held onto her fiercely, needing the feel of another’s arms around her as much as she did.  
‘I thought you were dead,’ Nerissa whispered, slowly calming down.  
‘For the longest time, I thought I would be.’ Lyris pulled back to look her in the face. ‘Nerissa, I think Andro is going to...dispose of you. He said as much.’  
‘He plans to at the auction in a few days, I know.’  
‘You don’t seem to be afraid.’  
‘There are worse things than death. Haven’t you learned that by now? I’m so tired, Ly.’  
‘Don’t worry. We’ll both be free soon. I’ll make sure of it.’  
There it was. A small spark of hope that was exactly what she needed: another point of focus outside of the pain. And a reason for her to continue dragging out her existence, to save that of another. One so much more deserving than herself.  
Lyris squeezes Nerissa tightly in her arms. 'We'll be free.'


	9. Broken Chains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus we reach the bitter conclusion of Broken Chains, though Lyris's story is far from over. Thank you to everyone who read

Across the carriage Lyris noticed Nerissa’s eyes slid from their task up to hers, the furrow in her brow posing the question she dared not ask. Lyris shook her head. Now was not the time. It had to be right. Anything less than perfection would lead them to their doom.

Andro ambled outside into the courtyard, dressed in dark regalia. He stepped towards Lyris and Nerissa, his face split into a saccharine smile. 

‘All done then? Marvelous. We should set out now to make good time.’ He snapped his fingers. The guard standing watch hurried forward. He seized the chains attached their collars and fixed them to the to back of the carriage. Andro’s eyes swept over them one last time before he vanished into the back of it. The pace they set off at was steady enough for Lyris and Nerissa to follow behind at a brisk walk. 

Lyris glanced at Nerissa. She met her gaze, and offered naught more than a stoic expression. She was nervous, but putting on a brave face. Not that she needed. Lyris would save her, even if it cost her her own life. She just needed a plan...

*

They stopped to make camp before nightfall. Lyris’s feet were sore and blistered, her entire body aching with exhaustion, but she nor Nerissa were not granted a reprieve before being tasked with lighting the fire and pouring the drinks. It was an all-too familiar scene, right-down to the unwanted groping they endured after one too many ales had been downed. 

They were left chained to the carriage for the night before the rest succumbed to their drunken slumber. Soon, the camp fell silent except for the sound of nightlife and gentle snores. It soon felt as though she and Nerissa were finally alone.

‘So about that escape plan?’ Nerissa drawled.

‘I’m sorry,’ Lyris said softly. Nerissa had sounded playful, but Lyris really wasn’t in the mood for japes. 

‘There is nothing for you to be sorry for. You’re a slave. You’re nothing, you own nothing. How could you help? My only regret is I can’t spare you my eventual fate.’

Lyris said nothing, but took her delicate hand in her own. Her hand fit so perfectly in hers. Lyris thought Bahamut was full of shit for speaking about Fate, and how it guides everyone to where they should be. But in this brief, beautiful moment, she believed it.

‘Maybe…’ Nerissa breathed so quietly Lyris hardly heard her.

‘What was that?’

‘Maybe we can get out. Right here and now’

Lyris shook her wrists to rattle the chains. ‘We aren’t going anywhere without tools.’

‘Do you intend to break your promise?’

‘No, I just–’

‘Then help me.’

Nerissa walked over to one of the carriage doors. With a sigh, Lyris stood and walked to the other side of it. There was enough slack for them to reach the doors. Lyris looked through the window. Under the gloom of night, it was difficult to make much out. But she could see the luggage stacked on one of the double-seats.

Lyris slowly opened the door. It was a stretch to reach the trunks, but she managed to pull the top-most one towards her. She and Nerissa set it down between them.

Nerissa looked up at Lyris, caught in a moment of uncertainty. ‘If we’re caught…’

‘I know.’

Lyris examined the front of it. It was unlocked. She popped it open, and was greeted by piles of meticulously folded clothes. Carefully she took the items out one by one. Nerissa held them on her lap as Lyris unearthed the bottom of the trunk. And saw nothing but the polished wood the interior was made out of.

‘Bust. I assumed as much.’ Lyris sighed and carefully replaced the clothes. She took out the next trunk. Pouches of platinum and gold pieces. More money than she could count. More money than one person would ever rightly need for a three-day trip. Part of her wanted to take as many coins as she could fit in her hands, but she had nowhere to hide them, and she couldn’t even imagine the punishment dished out for stealing money. She reluctantly closed the trunk, and gathered the final one.

‘What do you think?’ Lyris asked wryly. ‘Gold?’

‘Clothes?” Nerissa suggested with a shrug.

‘Gold and clothes?’

‘Let’s find out.’ Nerissa reached across and released the hatched. They pushed the heavy top upwards together.

Inside was an assortment of torture devices. Knives with various blade sizes, thumb crushers, pliers, several different whips, a bamboo-wood cane, collars with spikes on the inside, double ended forks and an assortment of liquid-filled vials coloured liquids.They observed the contents with silence, remembering the pain these were capable of inflicting. When she saw the whips, Lyris felt the scars across her torso and back grow unbearably hot. Suddenly she was not out in the woods no longer, but the dark, damp dungeon, ropes spreading her arms out to the side like a pair of wings. Heat bloomed from her back with each single hit, the end of the whip cutting open her skin. Each hit shook her entire frame. Soon pain overwhelmed all other senses, her vision lost to white. 

A voice reached out through the cacophony in her ears. Cool hands pressed themselves on either side of her face forcing her gaze up and straight. The white faded. Nerissa’s face and the clearing behind her melted into view. 

She took in a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be.’ The hands vanished from her face. She immediately missed her touch. ‘If you can’t do this…’

‘No, no I can. I can do it.’

Lyris closed her eyes as she turned herself to face the chest. She opened her eyes, forced herself to view the contents. Hesitantly, she removed some tools, examining them for any sort of utility for their situation. Most she tossed to one side, until she found a small hammer at the bottom. She tested the weight against her palm. Too small and fragile to be used for carpentry or stone-masonry. 

Nerissa shook her head, easily able to read Lyris’s intentions. ‘Too loud.’

‘They’re all drunk.’

‘Doesn’t mean their deaf.’

Lyris set it gently to the side, and next pulled out the small vials. There were three in total, all containing clear liquid, some cloudier than others but all were unlabeled, making it impossible to divine their contents.

‘What do you suppose is in them?’

‘Nothing good, I’m sure. But…’ She uncorked one, and brought it up to her face to smell it. It had a pungent, sour odour. She dumped it onto the chain-holder. Nothing happened at first. Then there was a subtle hissing sound, chased by the smell of heated metal. Smoke began to rise. Nerissa’s head perked up as the contents of the vial began to eat away at the metal.

‘It’s–!’

‘Acid,’ Lyris finished.

Lyris wrapped the chains once around her wrists, then clutched the metal links tightly in her fist. She leaned back, using all of her weight to rend the warped metal. With a creak, then a metallic clang, the ring broke free from the wood, releasing their chains.

They were free.

Lyris grabbed Nerissa’s hands, and started running, without direction or care towards the edge of the clearing. She heard Nerissa behind her let out a breathy laugh, dissolving into joyful giggles. The sound of freedom.

The joyous laughter cut off with a pained gasp. Lyris stumbled as Nerissa’s dead weight tugged down on her arm. She turned as Nerissa fell from her grasp, two arrows protruding from her back. 

Looking over her friend’s fallen form, she saw Brigfen draw another arrow. Behind him, more soldiers grabbed weapons and yelled orders. 

Nerissa lunged upwards. Lyirs caught her, and threw her arm over her shoulder. They started forward, the treeline drawing close. If they could just get there, they’d have cover.

They reached the edge as a third arrow burst forth from her chest. Ropes of blood slashed across Lyris’s face. A sharp gasp left Nerissa’s lips as the momentum of the arrow drove her down, face-first.

Lyris collapsed to her knees and turned her over, freeing a deluge of blood onto her lap. Her breath hitched as Nerissa raised one shaking hand to Lyris’s face.

‘Mín’re ui- lain hi, ma vhenan.’

‘Mín’re ui- lain hi, ma vhenan.’ Lyris choked on the words as she spoke them.

Nerissa graced her with one final smile before she succumbed, her eyes sliding shut.

Arrows whizzed past her head or impacted into the trees surrounding them. Voices called out, their words overlapping into a sea of meaningless. A gentle light northward drew her gaze. A golden deer, encompassed in a soft glow observed her. A single word reverberated in her mind: “Come…”

Her body pulled itself up and she ran, slowly at first, becoming faster as the angered voices drew closer. Something hot and sharp struck her shoulder. Her hand grasped the fresh wound, fingers squeezing the flesh around the arrow’s entry point. 

She didn’t see the gorge until too late. She collapsed down it, body slamming against the sloped ground, the world around her becoming one chaotic pallet of colour. She landed heavily, face-down on the sodden soil. She lay there for a while, pain coursing across her but at least there was quiet all around.

Something warm and wet pressed against her arm as it sniffed her. It began to poke at her, driving itself under her arm, then leveraged her onto her side. 

Lyris saw a grey wolf towering over her, amber eyes surveying her curiously. Her hand reached forward. He gently lapped his tongue over the old, healed wound on her forearm. 

‘…Fenrir…?’


End file.
